Road's End
by pipking
Summary: “I am everlasting,” growled Ganon. “There are other worlds than these.” [FINISHED]
1. Reflection

"_There are other worlds than these."_

Link woke with the whisper still echoing in his ears. He heard a Wolfos howl in the distant dark, and the ghostly cries of its brethren in response. _Close... but not too close. I have yet another hour I can sleep._ But sleep wouldn't come. He lay back with his hands cupped behind his head, using his deerskin pack as a lumpy pillow, and regarded the stars. The fire had died down to mere embers, and they glowed a sinister red - red like the eyes of the villains he'd slain. The red of avarice, the red of gluttony, the red of evil. He closed his own eyes but could still see the stars; he was awake, the kind of awake that offers no concession to the rest he needed. The Wolfos let out another howl - closer now, markedly closer, so perhaps he might as well just walk the rest of the night away.

He moved slowly at first, as his waking body fought the chill of the early morning air. It didn't take him long to pack up his simple camp. He kicked dirt over the stubborn coals and took a swag from the waterskin he had strapped across his chest. He tucked his bedroll away and shouldered the pack. He'd long ago lost his sword and was now, here, grateful that he didn't have to carry its weight anymore. The sword was too heavy for long travel - his daggers had proved sufficient.

Still, as he found his way back to the untravelled road from his encampment in the woods, Link somewhat missed it's reassuring weight all the same. The Master Sword. It had been his steady companion when all others had fallen. And now it too was gone, lost to the tale like so many friends and lovers, years and miles and moments of joy.

No matter. His destination lay ahead, and when he reached it, he would look back and call out the names of the dead, the forgotten, the left-behind. He hoped it would be enough to save his soul.

For now, the road lead onward.

And he followed.


	2. Rest

**NOTE: This story was originally submitted to the site a while go, taken down due to reasons listed on the main page, and is now being resubmitted. If you've read it before, there are only very slight changes, if any. Thanks.  
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Around mid-morning, he came to a town. The sign far back along the road read, _Burgis Batal, 30 Wheels_, and it surprised him that it took such an appreciably short time to get there. No matter. Time was not was it once was, nor distance.

At first, Burgis Batal seemed deserted. The sun hung high in a cloudless sky and pooled shallow shadows around the feet of the old wooden buildings lining the main street. None was more than two stories high, and all had broken windows peering from their weathered brown faces. _Dead eyes - this town is blind_, he thought, as he strode boldly into the main square. Darkness inside the stores and houses - glass and splinters grinding under his boot-heels. The sound of the wind throwing desert sand against these sad remnants. Like a cruelty, like a taunting child - _No one left, Link, no one but you._

A bird disturbed the perfect blue overhead, to far to seem more than a gliding fleck of ash. Link watched it swoop and circle, getting ever lower, and held his hand against the knife in his belt. He would not kill it unless he had to, but suspected he would - as it grew in his field of vision, he saw it was not a simple blackbird. It's neck extended to snap some insect out of the air, and it's over-wing flashed bright yellow and red on the downstroke. He unsheathed his blade but held it against his thigh. He hunkered a bit, like any animal waiting to spring.

It was now more than a few dozen feet away, and it's cold, calculating eyes had found the heat radiating off of him that made him distinct from the baked and parched surroundings, the dead and empty buildings, the bones now covered by dust and taken back to where they began. It let out a foul, noisome cry that sounded like glass shattering. He held his breath. He waited.

When it was no more than a bodies length away, Link sprang; he hefted the blade up using himself as a coiled spring; it travelled in a sure arc from his hand to the heart of the bird. The cry cut off in mid-wail; bird and knife fell like a stone and landed with a puff of dust a few yards from his booted feet.

One foot on the warm, bloodied body of the bird, he removed his blade and saved himself from kicking the animal. _No, not now. Not here, in this place of dead things_. He wiped his dagger on the dirt and put it back in it's place by his side.

He went in search of supplies - for though the town was dead he suspected its stores were not. He proved himself right on the first try. A squat building in comparatively better shape than it's cousins, with few broken windows and siding that look almost new, if un-cared for. The door was open, and his footfalls echoed like the voices of dreams as he walked inside.

After a few seconds his eyes adjusted to the dark. Rows of shelves stood before him like soldiers at attention. Some were bereft of all that they held save a few cans and oddments - he picked through carefully, and recognized the words on some of the labels. _Hylian Chutney. Lon-Lon Condensed Milk._ Like the ghosts of friends passed. He would ever be haunted by memory - haunted and hunted, and would find no rest until he was done - with the quest and with his life. He wondered now as he often did, tightly gripping a can of _Lon-Lon_, if the two would be one and the same. He himself did not wager an opinion on the matter, one way or another.

From outside there came a faint noise - the tinkle of a spurred boot as it's owner took am incautious step forward and stopped suddenly, as if by fingers. Link ducked under the nearest window and had his two daggers in his hands without thinking. He peaked over the window sil and held his breath.

There, in front of the store, stood a tall, tanned man in a long black cloak. His crimson hair and beard gave him the look of a lion - fierce and proud, and twice as dangerous when he smiled and betrayed his sharp and shining teeth. In one hand he held the reigns of a great shadowed horse. For a moment Link marvelled at how silent the beast had been - surely he would have heard it had it been a normal breed, but the white star-shaped marking on it's muzzle betrayed it's true identity, and that of it's master, for though he had never seen the man himself, not once in all his long years of wandering, the figure outside fit the picture he'd painted behind his eyes to a T.

_Him. The Thief King. Ganondorf._

Even though he would have sworn it impossible, Ganondorf looked up from his boots and directly into Link's peeping eyes. Surely he couldn't _see_ Link, even if his bewitched senses knew his foe was there.

But Ganondorf's deep voice cut him cold from his speculation.

"No need to hide, child, not here. Even if I couldn't see you I can smell your fear and rage. I can smell the ghosts of the dead you carry. You will face me, or you will parish in this human outpost, never to reach your destination."

Link thought he was bluffing. He had bested dark magicians many times before - the short speech rang of bravado, nothing more.

This is the reason Link convinced himself of - this is why he stood up so confidently and sheathed his daggers before coming out of the derelict store. For all that came after, this is the reason he repeated, night and again, for the rest of his life. _The man is brazen. I am no fool. I am righteous, and I will succeed in my goal of capturing the Triforce, in the last lands of Hyrule. He will not bar the way. No one has, and no one will_.

This is the moment he later wished he'd been wrong.


	3. Riddle

Ganondorf smiled brightly, his unnaturally white teeth glowing like bone in the moonlight. He let go of the reigns and held out his arms in a friendly gesture of welcome. His horse, the famed and fabled Grimghest, ambled away. This was not his business.

"It's been a long time coming, child, and I cannot say how happy I am the moment is here." He took a step forward and Link's hands flew to his daggers. Ganondorf stopped, and frowned, arms drooping like the tired branches of a dead tree.

"I come to you in peace," he growled, and Link grew surer than ever that the man masked fear. "You'd do well to respond in kind."

"You've earned no trust from me, magician. Speak your riddle or die where you stand."

"So cold!" cried the tall man, arms outstretched again and looking around as if to call for reason and reassurance from any onlookers. The horse snorted and wandered into the abandoned stables, perhaps chasing after the scents of horses long-departed. Link noted that he heard not a step - the animal moved like wind and shadow.

"So cruel, and yet, you yourself have never known me. Must we start off with such baggage?"

"It is ours to carry." Link's voice sounded hard to his own ears, the voice of a man long used to mis-adventure and tired of it. He was not the boy he was when he began this journey - he would never be that boy again. It struck him now that this man, his lifelong antagonist whom he had never set eyes on, who set wave after wave of evil on him, who had been two steps ahead or one step behind in the foot-race to the last lands - Ganondorf was the only thing he had left from the life that once was.

"Do you truly say peace?"

Ganondorf smiled expansively. "I do. I pledge it against all I have hated and slain. Here and now, we do not compete to gain access to the Tower of the Triforce. You have my word as a villain."

Link didn't know what Ganondorf could have said to put him at ease, but these words rang true, even from one as duplicitous as the Thief King. _No blades - words._ He had yet to know which would prove the more deadly weapon.

His hands relaxed, and he came off the porch into the bright, early-afternoon sun, and then under the shadow of his adversary. Standing before him, Link suspected that Ganondorf could crush him with his arms alone, and feigned ease while inside he fought fear.

"What would you speak of, Thief King? Of worlds lost and friends dead? Of all the steps we've taken in tandem, parallel or alone?"

Ganondorf clapped one wide palm on his shoulder - Link did not flinch, and was proud. "Of these things and more, perchance. I must tend to my horse. Make us a fire to cook on." With that, Ganondorf turned towards the stables and did not look behind him.

Link tried to push his grumbling thoughts away as he gathered broken boards and dry grass together in a bundle. _He didn't even turn around. You could have killed him where he stood. Do you think he'd offer you the same grace if you turned your back._ He suspected not, but he also knew that to him, his word was his life. His word was what carried him here - the first promise he'd ever made, the last he would ever break:_ Only the Triforce matters. Only that, and nothing more. Not this creature who would compete for a place beside it._ Link knew he would ultimately win, as all heroes do. This was merely a break from the running.

Ganondorf soon returned with his own pack, and Link already had the fire smoldering. Soon it crackled and sparked, the bright flames dulled by the sun overheard, turned into a spirit of it's night-time self. His adversary pulled dried meats from his sack, which he offered to Link, and wet ones, which he bit into with gusto and greed. Link looked away as the blood dribbled down his chin.

They made a stew, and sat in eager silence as it was brought to a boil.

Finally, as Ganondorf set the lid back on the pot, he spoke.

"I could have killed you, you know. More than a thousand chances I had to slay you in your sleep. Do you know why I didn't?"

Link shrugged. "I doubt it was honour. Honour didn't stay your hand when commanding your legions of monsters to kill me."

Ganondorf waved his hand impatiently. "One has nothing to do with the other. You have a goal - I have a different one. Did it ever occur to you that I had as little choice in my part as you do in yours?"

Link shook his head firmly. "No."

Ganondorf sighed. "No matter. The road behind in not the road ahead, and soon we will come to Road's End, where all questions are answered, or at least rendered useless."

They quietly sipped their stew, each daring the other speak again.

It was Ganondorf that yielded - Link later understood that he always would.

"No," the Thief King began, "It was not honour. It was _fascination_."

Link cocked an eyebrow but did not respond. It was not his place to speak. He had nothing to say.

"I knew of you the day you were born. I knew who you would become. I knew you were the only real threat to come across my path in all the ages, all the worlds I've rent and ruined. I knew this because my Dark Heart spoke it, and it always speaks the truth to me.

"You will remember, I'm sure, the murder of your parents - yes, that act a triumph even in my storied history." He paused to gauge Link's reaction, but found no satisfaction in the stony look returned. He went on. "For my Dark Heart told me that I could kill them, and I could kill your siblings, and I could kill your King and Queen and their beloved Princess - I could fill the world with bodies, and yet, somehow, I could not kill you."

"Then why try?" was Link's only question.

"Such is the bane of evil, I suppose. I could make it _hard_ for you. I hope I didn't disappoint."

Link fought his rage. It was the hardest battle of this long and bloodied road. _Everyone is dead because of me. Because of me._ He didn't know when he'd convinced himself otherwise, but it hurt like hell to now know it truly, coming from the mouth of his life's greatest enemy.

Link said, "You did not." It was all the concession he could give, and he was surprised to find it leavened the burden a little.

"I didn't think so." Ganondorf grinned a grin so self-satisfied that it was all Link could do not to cleave it from his face.

"But we are here, now, just as I feared, with not but a few days left to go until you reach the Field of Glory. I will no longer dog your steps, my friend and mortal foe. I call you here in peace, and ask you leave alone."


	4. Run

Link suspect it was a trick - any pledge to a Dark Heart is a false one. But Ganondorf looked strangely at peace - as if his concession took some of the bite from his jaw, some of the shadow from his form. He looked enlightened - as Link suspected he himself would look once he stood on the edge of the Field of Glory, in the shadow of the Triforce's Tower. _This is what it was all about. This is my justification._ For a moment he burned with jealousy.

"You will leave me alone."

Ganondorf smiled. "Your way is clear."

"I don't believe you."

"I didn't think you would. Which is why I'd have you kill me."

Link could not help the contemptuous, confused laugh that escaped him. No. Not like this. He never suspected it would be like this. He could not let himself believe it.

Ganondorf shrugged. "I lost this race before I began running it, child. I knew you would be my downfall - I've always known. And long ago I knew I would meet you here - this you, the truest you - in this dead town, and concede victory. I will not die again on the edge of the Field of Glory - I have dreamed it so many times, and lived it in so many worlds. Sometimes I won - oh yes, for not all of your selves is invulnerable to my wrath - but I never gained access to the Tower or it's prize. It is not for me. It never was. In this world, the only world that matters, I concede before I lay my eyes on it. For if I don't, I am truly doomed."

Link's head was spinning. _There are other worlds than these_. Hadn't he known? Hadn't he _always_ known? Hadn't he used that very phrase to carry him through his many grievings? When the princess fell, her broken body splayed on the cobblestones at the base of her high castle, hadn't she said on her dying breath, _"I am never lost to you. Not here, not ever,_" and hadn't he smiled and nodded and let her leave this life with love? With not hope, but _knowledge_ of what she spoke?

He managed to say, "You are doomed anyway, fiend and foe."

Ganondorf stood. He brushed the dirt off his cloak as if it mattered. "It is done. I'd have you kill me now, if you don't mind. I'd like the sun to be the last thing I see."

Link stood and grabbed his daggers. They were steady in his hands. Ganondorf turned his back and held his head up to the sky.

A million thoughts raced through his mind then. Memories like flashes of lightening; faces he'd long tried to forget, he'd begged to forgive him; creatures who'd barred the way with their sick, salivating jaws and catching claws; miles and miles and miles of roads, all leading here. He would have won. Not just a hero's assertion - didn't his life's greatest enemy just admit it? It was fated - it was written. No matter the death and destruction along the way - he would have won the Tower and the Triforce. In the only world that mattered, all that had once mattered to him was lost, and he the ever-willing sacrificer. Without this man, he would have gained his goal and been able to return home to the once loving arms of so many.

It was rage that drove the knifes home, and a cry so full of pain that had there been any life in the town, it would have wept in despair. Indeed, the very buildings seemed to tremble.

Ganondorf just stood there, two hilts quivering in his back. He made not a sound, but his breathing had quickened.

Link grabbed the knives and yanked them out. Ganondorf let out a little sigh - the last sound this most evil man would make - the last sight he would have not of the sun, but of Link, coming around to face him and claim his head.

Link did not leave Burgis Batal that afternoon - he stoked the fire and saw to the horse - no particular allegiance to his fallen master, as Grimghest regarded him without fear or suspicion. Link patted his velvety muzzle and remembered he once had a horse he called friend.

He took the head of Ganondorf to the edge of town. There he placed it upon a sharpened stick, facing the road he'd travelled. Ganondorf's eyes were rolled back white, and his jaw hung slack and humourless. _This is all I can offer,_ Link thought, fighting tears. _This is my apology to all I have betrayed keeping my first promise._

Was it in vain? Was it truly? For after he'd mounted the head at it's watching post, and buried the body in the shallow dirt behind the stable, he remembered something Ganondorf had said, and passed over: _Did it ever occur to you that I had as little choice in my part as you do in yours? _He poked at the fire heartlessly, lost in thought. Grimghest had come closer to fight the chilling afternoon - the firelight danced across his shiny black hide, and Link was startled by his seemingly sudden appearance.

_We are both blameless,_ he thought bitterly. _We are both victims to the power of the Triforce_.

After a while he thought, _I will gain the Tower. I will release the Triforce, and wield it's power to heal all wounds_.

He looked at the silhouette of his foe's speared head against the darkening sky.

_I did you a service you did not deserve. I freed you from your task, thankless and hopeless though it was. It is I alone who am damned. This final villainy - a triumph above all others for you and your kind. I leave here not with hope, but doubt. And you - you - are now free._

He smiled a bitter smile.

_You have won the day._

He let the fire burn, mounted Grimghest, and fled the of town in the gathering dusk. He did not look behind him - not then, not ever again.


	5. Regret

Link rode through the night. This close to the last lands of Hyrule, the Tower all but his, a great and powerful mount to speed him on - as he twisted his fists in the horse's mane and gritted his teeth, bowed his head to wind-whipped grit, he left thoughts of grief and doubt leave him. Just for the moment. They would always be nearby, anyway.

_I am here. I have made it at last_. The simple thought filled his head with song.

How old was he, now? He'd long lost count of days, weeks, months, years. He knew places, he knew deaths, he knew moments of agony and victory - those above all - and knew how old he was when he left. A boy. Just a boy. Like any other.

_Why me?_ he thought, as he had a million times - but here and now it was different, somehow less-edged. He thought of Ganondorf's head, silently screaming at all that they'd left. _Why any of us_.

It was nearer than ever before. The night air took on strange smells - like warm light and dewed grass. When he closed his eyes, he saw a dim, sparkling gold.

Had any of his distant selves come this far? He didn't think so - Ganondorf said they had, but what did he know? He admitted he hadn't always won against the many twins of Link. Which this Link took to mean he was too dead to know what happened to them after. Perhaps not - Ganondorf had had unspeakable powers. But Link felt alone.

_What if the Tower did not yield to them, either?_

And then he remembered the dead, the many dead, the many, many miles. Victories, small and sure. The journey in all it's pitiful romance. _It was worth it_, he thought fiercely, and the golden glow behind his eyes faded.

_No. I've lost it_.

But his panic didn't hold. For when he opened his eyes, there it was - smaller than he'd expected, but in the end, he wasn't too surprised. A fat moon had risen behind it, and he jumped down from Grimghest in it's shadow.

As if he couldn't bare to look at it, he swiftly turned his attention to the horse. He unhooked the mouth-piece that gagged the animal, unstrapped the saddle from Grimghest's strong back and let it crash to the ground. The horse did not flinch at the sound of its burden released, but shook his mane defiantly.

Link quickly rubbed the animal down, whispering prayers of thanks and fear as he did. _You took me here in moments what would have lasted days. I am afraid of what I'll find at the gate. I'm afraid I'm not worthy. Thank you, thank you. You saved me many nights of worry. Here it is. Here I am._ He ended facing the horse, his face pressed against the star bloom on the black muzzle.

"Leave here. Tell them of my return. Those who will still stand to listen. Those who don't spit at my name as they once spat at the name of your Master." He fought tears, and then realized it was hopeless - and more, it was needed. He could not weep in the Tower. He needed to approach the topmost room where the Triforce lay trapped with a heart clean of grief.

So he wept. Grimghest shed a big, horsey tear for his own reasons, and gave what comfort he could.

"Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them I'm so very, very _sorry_."

He held his breath for a spell, pulling back from the horse, and let it out it a cry that was heard in the dreams of all who'd had faith - and there were many more than he suspected.

"_I! Link of Hyrule! Wielder of Courage! I come AT LAST to the Field of Glory! THE QUEST WAS NOT IN VAIN!"_

And mothers and fathers wept, and sleeping children stirred, and wives held tight to their husbands; husbands held tighter their wives. He faced the road behind him - the Tower waited at his back.

"It was not in vain," he whispered, and turned.

The moon was peaking around the smooth shoulder of the Tower. A fat moon. It's face was stoic, revealing nothing of it's thoughts. The light it cast showed his all the glory of the thing hidden by the night. It was no dark tower, as he'd feared, but a smooth and shining monument of pearl. Each brick winked at him as the moon rose higher, and when the moon was at it's peak, the whole surface of the Tower shimmered with an uncanny blue glow.

There were windows marking it's surface in an ascending spiral. It was the one at the top he was interested in.

It was the only one that mattered.

The golden glow of the Triforce beckoned, winking out of the window on the Tower's forehead: the godlight of an all-seeing eye.

A voice spoke to him.

_Help us._


	6. Revelation

He ran to the base of the Tower, through the Field of Glory. He'd heard rumours of what he'd see - the walking dead, faces in every flower, laughing, crying, teasing - but now that he was here, with the Triforce's pitiful cry (a despairing cry; all the tears of the world), still echoing into nothing someplace deep within him - now, he chose to close his eyes and run. He wouldn't feel safe until he was in the Tower. He was coming at it blind, but he would not fall. Not now.

Despite his resolve, an eerie creaking noise made his eyes fly open. Not fifty yards away, the doors at the base of the Tower parted, slow as kissing lips. Link felt a pull, sudden and irresistible - his feet left the ground for a moment, and in that instant the distance between him and his goal had halved. He landed with a gasp. The doors parted further and Link grit his teeth. He could almost hear the Tower's indrawn breath. His feet left the ground again before they touched the first pearly flagstones, and the door slammed hard behind him.

Grimghest, who had watched the man fly off his feet into the waiting mouth at the base of the Tower while he stamped his own, ran away. The rest of his long life was largely good.

Link feared he'd be squashed against the stones on the wall opposite the door - or perhaps speared on some sinister arrangement of sharp things.

But as the door closed behind him, he floated gently down and stood in a pool of light. He squinted. It shone down bright as the sun at noon, but devilishly focussed in around him. He couldn't see anything other than the dust-motes drifting in and out of the beam.

Hands to daggers, he took a step forward.

The light followed. He rolled to the right, and the beam never missed a move.

Link stood and shook his head. Then he closed his eyes.

It took a moment as his ears adjusted to being bumped up in rank - in the growing noise he heard his heart. It's beat was steady - no regrets, here, no fear. He had mourned the dead; it would only shame them if he didn't finish.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out an old, pock-marked boomerang.

He flicked his wrist hard - the scrapes on it's surface made the boomerang sing as it _plinked_ off the walls of the room at the Tower's base. He followed it's progress with little nods of his head, eyes firmly shut. He raised his hand and the boomerang sailed back.

A deep breath.

Link jumped, kicked off the wall to his right, grabbed a hanging sheaf of tapestry, ran across the closed door and landed on the stairs. He opened his eyes cautiously, but the light had left him. Out of it's glare he could see much clearer - the room at the base of the tower was filled with dusty relics - high-backed chairs hulking around like trolls, rolls of carpet, a suit of armour, and (as he peered over the wooden banister) a reception desk. Behind it were rows of tiny shelves, numbered in sequence ending at 99 in the bottom right-hand corner. Some of the holes dangled key chains like dry tongues - a few wagged at him as he watched.

He would need no key.

It was not arrogance, but fact. The Triforce told him so.

The Triforce said without saying - he heard no voice, but felt a sudden, glowing assertion - _I won't need a key. It's just a glammer._

No sooner had he finished his thought and the ground shook violently. His hand shot out and clutched the railing. The light flickered. In the rumble, he distinctly heard the sound of a dozen keys dropping to the stone floor.

It didn't last long. A few seconds, maybe, long enough for Link to wonder if the whole thing was going to come crashing down. _The Triforce is restless. It wants out. It struggles._

_I come_, he thought, running up the stairs. He was in complete darkness as the wide staircase curled up towards the second floor.

This next floor was lit an eerie, icy blue from the moonlight shining through the many widows and bounced of the ghostly stone. It was much larger that the reception area, it's floor spanning nearly the entire diameter of the Tower - a hundred yards or more.

As he left the stairs, he felt a swoosh of air behind him, and heard a loud thud. He spun, expecting anything, but all he saw was stone - the way back was blocked.

It didn't matter. He wasn't turning back.

He noticed stairs on the far wall. Their flat tops caught the moonlight and made it seem they were floating in shadow. He spun on his heels as he traced their path, up and up, each swoop smaller that the last, shorter - doors broke through the gleaming wall at regular intervals the whole way, alternating with the windows.

He started across the room and abruptly stopped. The Triforce pulsed inside him. _It is not that easy_.

As if on cue, there came a growling from shadow of the stairs.

Link held his daggers out, spun them a few times around his swift hands and crouched.

"Come!" he cried.

The beast that stepped into the reflected moonlight grinned at him, revealing a mouth the size of a wheelbarrow and dripping tusks nearly as long as Link's arm. It's gleaming snout let out a puff of steam; beady, sinister red eyes peered out from beneath a sloping brow. Curled horns, like those of the goats once thick on Death Mountain, jutted out at odd angles on either side of it's head. Red tufts of bristly hair dotted its massive chin. The thing's head nearly reached the third door along the staircase when it reared back - when it settled on it's knuckles and stepped forward, Link heard the distinct _click-clicking_ of hooves.

"No," breathed Link. "You're dead."

Ganon let out a hearty laugh - Link could smell dead things. His voice echoed like thunder.

"There have been many Ganondorfs, boy. But I, like you, am unique." He then let out a roar that sent ice into all the darkest corners of Link's being. His hands flew up to his ears just as the ground again began to tremble.

Ganon struck out a massive arm against the staircase; it was all Link could do to stay on his feet.

"_Quiet!"_ he roared. _"Toy of the bitch-gods! HE'LL NOT HAVE YOU!"_

At the Triforce's response, which sifted dust and grit down from the top of the tower and sent a lighting-bolt crack down the far wall, Link lost his footing, and fell with his daggers out - they hit to floor and scattered away into darkness.

He looked up and saw fear on Ganon's face as the monster gazed towards the top of the tower - he knew then he would succeed. Knives or no. The Tower was his.

Tower had calmed again, but echoes of the Triforce's rage sent tremors though the stone. Link ran at the creature. Ganon looked surprised, but only for a second - he turned and stretched out his arms, as if he intended to catch Link in a crushing embrace.

At the last moment Link turned to the left, grabbed Ganon's forearm and swung himself onto the beast's shoulders. He grabbed hold of one of Ganon's misshapen horns and swooped down to face him. I gave him great satisfaction to see those piggy eyes crossed in pain as he feet kicked him sharply in the chest.

Before Ganon had a chance to grab him, or shake him off like dog does water, Link darted out a hand and took Ganon's left eye.

He jumped away and felt a claw from Ganon's swinging hand catch his shirt - the fabric ripped and the near-blow sent Link off his course. He landed roughly on his left arm, snapping it. The wounded beast squealed and bellowed, one hand to his face and the other reaching out, his good eye momentarily blinded in fury.

Link rolled into a crouch - he felt the bones in his broken arm crush, but no pain. Not too far to his right one of his daggers gleamed in the moonlight.

Ganon finally saw him and came crashing forward like a mountain slide. Blood coursed through his fingers and his mouth let out a wail that nearly froze Link to the spot.

He rolled again, grabbed the dagger with his good hand, and let it fly.

The sickly popping sound that followed told him he'd hit the mark - that, and Ganon let out a howl of both rage and defeat, a sound so sour and vicious that Link clutched first his ears then his stomach - he retched and let out a stream of green and black bile onto the floor.

When Ganon felt to his knees, the floor shook. But nothing from the Triforce. It was silent in its gloating, and Link was grateful.

Ganon tantrumed like a child, pounding his fists on the floor and kicking out his pitiful hooves, striking sparks off the wall. He gnashed his teeth. Flecks of foam flew out of his maw with each agonized cry.

Link approached the fallen creature with his blade proceeding him.

"Quiet," he said, and was faintly surprised when Ganon quit his bellowing. He drew breath in gasps and blew out the foul smells of all that rots and moulders, all that poisons and pillages. Link had no satisfaction in his smile, but smile he did.

The beast raised it's head. Empty, oozing sockets pulsed with each breath.

"I am ever-lasting," growled Ganon. "There are other worlds than these."

Link dropped to his knees beside Ganon's great, smelly head and put his knife against the monster's throat.

"Then go to them if they'll have you, _villain_."

On the last word he slit Ganon's throat.

_No spear to stick you on_, he thought as he worked like butcher on a tough cut of meat. _You're blind head will stare into nothing until it is dust_.

_There are other worlds than these. Yes. Other worlds. Other selves. They are just echoes - echoes of us. And you can not escape your singularity, Ganon. No more than I. So quit this living with the knowledge that it is now, finally, done._

The Triforce told him this was true.

Link went to the stairs and began climbing.


	7. Road's End

He tried the first door - locked. Same with the second and third. His broken arm throbbed but he scarcely felt it. It hung limp at his side.

By the time he came to a door he could open, the shadow of Ganon's corpse was just a smudge on the faintly glowing floor below. Looking down he felt a wave of vertigo, stumbled back, waving his good arm. Instead of coming to rest against the wall he fell through the door - Number 17 in the sequence. He landed with an _oof!_ in a pile of papers, some of which scattered around him like leaves.

"Lucky you didn't fall out a window," said a voice behind him. "We're high up, you know."

Link slowly got to his feet and looked around. He wasn't worried about the voice. He was done dealing death - from the Triforce to his heart, he knew it was true.

The room looked like an office of some sort, although in a very sorry state; the writing desk by the window was stained with ink and watermarks; towering piles of paper leaned against the walls, and the floor was covered with them - a few were caught by a draught and came dangerously close to the open fireplace, where a log burned brightly.

Behind the desk stood a man. A short, happy-looking fellow with dark hair and mysterious, slanted eyes. He regarded Link with something like contempt, and Link didn't like that much at all.

"Who are you?"

The man shook his head and stayed behind the desk. "You're not the curious boy you once were. It's a shame. It was never meant to come this far."

Link took a step forward. The man did not move. Paper rustled dangerously close to the fire.

"Do you know me?"

"I do. Or I did, very well, once." He narrowed his eyes and made a sour face. "You are not who I'd hoped you'd be, sorry to say."

Another step, and Link could see the pain in the man's eyes.

"What do you have to say about it? Who are you to judge?"

"My friends call me Shiggy."

"That means nothing to me."

Shiggy picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it, and tossed it over his shoulder into the fireplace. It landed on the log, began to uncurl like a blooming flower, and did not burn.

"I didn't think it would," said Shiggy. "None of it makes any difference now. Go to it. The Triforce calls, just as it always has. You're close. You're so close."

This sounded too much like teasing to ignore. "Do you mean to stop me?"

Shiggy shook his head sadly. "No." He shuffled out from behind the desk to the tune of chains - Link looked down and saw his ankles were shackled to the desk. "Your success means my freedom, too."

"Then why aren't you happy?" _Fool_, thought Link. _So used to the cage you see only the safety, not the bars._

"Because it got out of my hands so fast. I couldn't control what people dreamed of you. Your legend lived long after I'd stopped telling it. This is not the conclusion I'd have had you come to."

Link shook his head. "How proud," he whispered. "How sad."

He turned and left to the sound of another piece of paper refusing to fall to the fire.

Up and up. Nearly half-way there.

Number 45 was ajar. Link could see more flickering firelight. He peered in, expecting another mysterious mad-man or some other oddity that would stall but not stop him. But he knew he couldn't just pass these open doors by - they were things he was meant to see, and if he couldn't understand there importance - there would be time to mull it over.

Zelda sat on the floor by the fireplace. If Link had not lost his wits at the sight of her, he'd have noticed this room was identical to the previous one; instead of a desk and a thousand loose pages, there was a bed and a lush red rug, tapestries on the walls boasting the Royal Crest and a small vanity with a candle on it. But the room was exactly the same, and some part of him recognized that each one would be.

"Zelda," he whispered. Her crown was in her lap; she stroked it sadly and gently. A cascade of golden hair hid her face from him save the curl of her nose, her strong jaw and the fullness of her lips. It was not Zelda as she had been when he'd last seen her - then she had been the warrior, the proud princess-queen, and her eyes had been fierce. Now she was just a girl. She wore her nightdress - he smelled lilacs.

Link stumbled into the room and fell to his knees before her. She did not look up - her eyes were fixed on the crown.

"Do you see me?" he asked, heart breaking all over again. He knew the answer but he had to try. "Can you hear me?"

She said nothing. She stroked the crown; the firelight made her fair skin glow.

"I loved you, Zelda. You above all things." He thought about it, and closed his eyes in shame. "Save one. Forgive me. Please." He reached out to touch her, and was surprised that he could.

Her eyes flew to his and she gave a startled gasp; she pulled back and let out a terrified scream.

"_You were in my dream! It was you! Murderer! Murderer!"_ Each word came at Link like a spear, pinning his heart to his chest. He took it without complaint. It was his to carry.

"I'm sorry," he said as he got to his feet. She did not hear. Her screams chased him up the next flight of stairs but he didn't run.

Up. And Up.

There was only one more door spilling a sliver of light - not firelight this time, but a golden glow that made his heart skip. _The Triforce_, he thought, but there were still more stairs to go.

The same room again (was this truly a Tower? Was he really climbing?), except this had no fire, no furniture - just a misshapen creature holding a glowing, angular object tightly to his chest.

"It's mine," growled the man-beast when he saw Link enter. Link said not a word. He wouldn't, here. He'd said all he'd had to say to both faces this creature had worn. The Tower's Ganon looked like a haphazard amalgamation of the two - part monster-pig, part thief-king, entirely hideous and somewhat pitiful. There was drool on his chin, and madness in his eyes.

"Mine," Ganon whispered again, gazing longingly into it's light. "Mine. _Mine_."

Link took this as a warning, and moved on.

Up and up. And finally there was just one door left - the walls had slowly circled in on each other to make the space at the top of the Tower as small as its haunted rooms.

His heart skipped again, and kept skipping.

The door was open. The light was true.

He had done it. Once he crossed the threshold, his quest was over.

He did not linger long.

There it was - somehow smaller than the one Ganon coveted, and a deeper, darker light came from it's heart, but every fibre of his being sang out: _There it is! The Triforce! There it is!_

He stood uncertainly before the pedestal.

_Touch me._

"I am afraid."

_Do not be. Your troubles are over. Touch me, and make your wish._

"I only came to save you. I have no wish."

The Triforce chuckled - the light emanating from it throbbed.

_You have many. What you lack is the courage to pick one_.

Link bowed his head. "Have I failed you?"

_Not yet. Touch me._

The hero stepped forward, took a deep breath, and placed his hands upon the Triforce. Words cannot adequately describe the sensation that ran through his body - it felt like falling, winning, losing, flying, despairing, hoping, birth and death at once. It felt like the voices of the goddesses whispering sweetly and sadly to every nerve inside him. It felt like peace. It felt like thunderstorms and butterflies.

_Wish_.

Link closed his eyes, and made a wish.

The Triforce chuckled again - it was the kindest sound he'd ever heard.

_So be it, hero. A good wish. It is granted with my thanks._

In the moment before the whole world changed, Link asked, "What will happen now?"

The Triforce said, _Life. As it always has and always will. But maybe a little less hard for the living._

Link smiled. The darkness behind his eyes began to sparkle. "I'm ready," he said.

He could hear the tremble in the Triforce's voice as it gathered the power of gods behind it.

_Hang on._

The End


End file.
